


Red Wine

by Mysticaldoily



Series: Dark Slayer Trilogy [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, Blood Drinking, Depression, F/M, Foster Care, Pole Dancing, References to Drugs, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-16
Updated: 2005-07-16
Packaged: 2018-10-13 19:42:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10520538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysticaldoily/pseuds/Mysticaldoily
Summary: Title: Red Wine—Dark Slayer #2Author: MystD or MysticaldoilyAURating: Strong R rating (some bondage and biting)Pairing: S/BPre-finale: Somewhere in S6Description: Buffy’s still missing, having lost Dawn and her house, as well as most of her friends and her self-confidence. Spike is left to fend off the demons and vamps of Sunnydale virtually by himself. Meanwhile Willow is becoming increasingly powerful and wicked, and something isn’t quite right at Dawn’s foster home. Things are getting worse by the minute for everyone. Can Spike turn things around before there’s no turning back?Disclaimer: I own nothing here, I just fantasize a lot. Crazy, smutty, fantasies lead to either insanity or Spuffy fiction! In this case, you got some fiction. Joss is the high ruler of all that is BtVS and Angel and basically he is to be worshipped. Any relation of this story to another story is purely coincidental…I’ve been writing more Spuffy than I actually read and honestly I apologize for anything that may be like someone elses’ writing.





	1. Chapter 1

Dawn slid her hand along the bedside table and frowned.

What is that?

She picked up the deck of cards, Bicycle brand. She opened the lid and slid the cards out. They had been used…they had lost their bendiness. She shook the deck once, cards falling out all over the floor. Along with the cards landed a note, which fell to the floor, onto her pink-slippered feet.

Dawn swallowed hard and leaned over, ignoring the cards all over her rug and reached for the little note. She clutched the yellow steno paper in her shaky hands, unfolding the one, simple fold. She could see the paper had been creased then carefully ripped to make it smaller at the bottom and on the sides. The handwriting was neat and loopier than she was used to seeing...old fashioned.

 

Nibblet—

Here’s the cards…you hold them in your hands, luv. You know what to do. Just be good and sing your sisters’ praises to the caseworkers.

I’ll see you again soon, I promise. And work on your Black Jack game ‘cause I plan to give you a run for your money when you get home.

Love,  
Spike

 

Dawn’s eyes saddened as she read his letter, tears struggling to fall free from her big, sad, eyes. Glancing around her room, she couldn’t think of anywhere she could safely hide the little piece of paper and she couldn’t bare to throw it away even though she felt completely abandoned by the vampire. She certainly couldn’t let her foster mother find it while she was cleaning her room or something.

So he just left…without saying ‘goodbye?’ Jerk.

Dawn wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. She slid the paper into her bra, adjusting it so that it didn’t show through t-shirt. She flattened her hand over her chest and looked at her work in the full-length mirror.

No weird boobage here…just boobs.

Nodding her head in approval she headed downstairs for breakfast. Mrs. Klein was making waffles…she could smell them and so could her stomach. It growled in protest of her making it wait all night to eat again.

“Good morning, Dawn,” Mrs. Klein said kindly with a smile on her face as Dawn took her seat at the small table in the kitchen. She mumbled a “Good morning” and kept her eyes on her plate. Mr. Klein never joined them for breakfast. He left very early in the morning to work his construction job. David sat on the floor in his footsie pajamas, crashing a Tonka dirt loader against the side of the kitchen counter over and over again.

“Davie honey, would you please come to the table?” Mrs. Klein asked and patted his hair.

He looked up at her and shook his head, then set his attention back on plowing the dirt loader into the counter, this time making a truck noise as he pushed the truck and a loud, “BAM!” as he slammed the truck into the wood.

Dawn stared at her waffles on her plate.

Am I destined to live like this until I’m 18…no correction, to suffer like this?

She silently prayed that Spike was right. Maybe if she continued to act good and attend school she could talk to her caseworker about Buffy, try to convince her that she wasn’t so bad…

But that would mean admitting that all the terrible things she’d done in Sunnydale…had been her own fault. Dawn picked up her fork and picked at her waffles while David loudly crashed his truck into the counter, hoping to God, wherever He was, that Spike was right for once.

***

Three Months Later…

 

“Fill it up.”

The bartender at Willy’s glanced from the empty drink glass back at the vampire who held it out to him with chipped, black, painted fingernails, holding it in his palm, holding it up to him as though it was some sort of church offertory. But what would either of them know about church, right?

He don’t know squat about repenting…he’s a blood suckin’ loser. Just look at ‘em.

The bartender shrugged and took the glass, poured some JD into it, sloshing some of it on the battered wooden bar counter. He added a small swig of store brand cola and swished it with a little brown straw, sliding it back at the vampire, not wanting to have much actual contact with him tonight. He was in a mood. Had been since…

“Good job, Short Bus. I’ll be sure to tip you extra, but only right ‘fore this whole blasted place goes up in smoke. Should be relatively soon considering the resemblance to hell you’ve got going on here and all that,” Spike muttered drunkenly and slammed over half the glass in one tilt of his bleached blonde head.

“Willy will be back tomorrow, Spike…and he won’t go for that kind of talk,” Phil snapped as he wiped a beer mug with a rather dingy-gray washcloth and flung it over his shoulder. He watched as Spike smirked, holding up one of the bar’s black matchbooks, ripping a match from its cardboard fold and lighting it with a glow of orange and a whiff of sulfur.

Spike stared at it, his drunk vision a blur, his eyes glistening in the flame light. He tilted his head, watching the flame reach the end of the match head and begin to travel down the cheap cardboard end…Spike licked his thumb and forefinger on his other hand and snuffed it out with a hiss.

“Willy can sod off. And then bugger himself…greasy weasel,” Spike slurred as he flung the dead match at Phil, missing and hitting the beer mug. He tilted his head back, taking in the rest of his Jack and Coke with another long slosh.

“Don’t you have someone to go bite or somethin’?” Phil mumbled and frowned as Spike snapped his fingers and pointed at the glass.

“Nope. Not a bloody soul in Sunnydale worth my time anymore. Not a soul…” he muttered and looked at the bartender, his eyes dark and clouded with alcohol, and something else.

“Slayer really got to you…” Phil began but immediately regretted it.

Spike jumped up from his stool, knocking it back onto the floor with a screech and a crash. He backed away from the counter, wobbly from drink, his face angry but tinged with pain. He pointed at Phil, a shaky, pale, finger poking out in the smoky dark.

“Shut your fucking mouth. ‘Least Willy knows when to shut his fucking mouth,” Spike drawled and stumbled out of the bar, calling over his shoulder, “Put it on my tab, Short Bus.”

Phil frowned as Spike nearly fell out of the bar, slamming the door open against the wall outside. The door flung back shut with a slam. The bartender took Spike’s glass and flipped it over.

Vampire reject…


	2. Chapter 2

She had been gone three months.

They had been three very long months and there was no end in site. And had she left any idea as to where the hell she’d gone to? Of course not. That’d been too easy.

Spike walked through the cemetery, keeping his ears open for the sound of crumbling earth and the hissing rasp, the first words of a newborn vampire springing forth into the dark, moonless, night. And of course if he didn’t catch the birth…he’d smell the baby.

Buffy.

Y’know, she’s going to be the death of me. I knew that when I signed on to this…relationship. What the fuck! What relationship you stupid, git?! I’ve got nothing here. She’s not mine and she certainly made that damn well clear when she skipped town.

“How long do we have to stay the hell out here in the bloody cold?! It’s all blue lips and chapped hands and frankly I’d like to have use of my eyeballs but if they dry the hell out…!”

“Shut up, Spike,” Willow snapped and pointed.

Spike averted his attention and watched as the familiar golden blonde tresses bounced on the very familiar shoulders of the young woman beating the crap out of the newbie vampire not 20 feet in front of them.

But it wasn’t his young woman. It was his bot.

Buffy Bot slammed the vamp into a tree and smiled down at him with ruby red lips. She waved at Spike and Willow who just stared, then glanced back down at the vamp.

“You have very bad hygiene. Your hair is dry. I’m thinking we should whip you up a damn good hot oil treatment…” Buffy Bot said with a smile as she staked the vamp, turning him into dust, “…But I don’t have time for that. I must find more of your scaly-scalped brethren.”

“Oy, Bot…uh, Buffy! That’s enough for t’night,” Spike called to the bot. Willow nodded in agreement. Willow walked up to the bot and led her away by her arm.

“But I was just starting to feel the burn, Willow…” the bot began as she followed Willow with a very visible spring in her leather-booted step. She twirled her stake and giddily laughed to herself.

“Yeah, sure you were. Time to go home and re-charge,” Willow advised.

“I’ll go pull the car ‘round front,” Spike muttered and ran across the cemetery lawn.

The whole Godforsaken lot that is what Sunnyhell owes us. They’re just lucky that Witchy Woman here is good with the gadgets…lucky she had kept pieces of the bot and could duplicate them. And their bloody lucky I give a damn still ‘cause right now this place could be crawling with demons and vampires without her here to slay them all.

Willow and Buffy Bot stood on the curb and waited for Spike’s Desoto. He rolled up with a glug glug glug of the loud muffler and leaned across the passenger’s side to unlock the door and push it open for the girls. 

Buffy Bot beamed and jumped into the front seat with Spike, who let out a sigh and turned to look out his window. Willow climbed into the back.

“Back to the Batcave with you, bot,” Spike muttered as he pulled away from the curb. 

Buffy Bot nodded and smiled at him. She reached over and touched his shoulder, causing him to flinch. “You’re always so funny, Spike. You’re the funniest vampire I know.” Her porcelain teeth flashed at him through her red lips, her lashes blinking…mocking him without her knowing it.

Spike swallowed hard and said quietly, “Yeah, funny.”

Willow leaned over the seat and tapped his shoulder. “Can I bum a smoke?”

“Oh, yeah…sure.” Spike reached for the pack of cigarettes on the seat and handed her a book of matches.

Willow took them from him and pulled a cigarette out of the pack and handed it back to him over the seat. “Whatever happened to your Zippo?”

Spike stared ahead, watching the street lights flash past him, watching the dark houses with their inviting porch lights, orange against the gray night, float past as he drove. “Got lost somewhere, Red.”

“That’s a shame,” she answered and lit the cigarette hanging from her mouth with a match, waving it out and flicking it out the window. She blew out a puff of smoke and rolled the window up just to a crack. The cool night air snuck through the opening and Spike turned up the heater.

“Yeah.”

**

Willow set the bot up in the spare bedroom. She didn’t really need a bed, she felt no actual discomfort from physical fatigue, but Willow rested her on the spare bed anyway. Her battery pack light beeped as she was recharged, her body lifeless.

She shut the door with a click and headed to her bedroom. Stripping of her clothes she pulled a white t-shirt out of the dresser and crawled into the bed, stretching out, feeling the empty pillow next to hers.

Tara.

She looked up at the ceiling. She would not cry. There was no point. She had done it herself. She had cheated on Tara, had lied about the girls she had been seeing, had lied about using magic. 

But isn’t just about everything these days a big lie?

Willow waved her finger towards the light and it shut off. She smiled to herself as she fell asleep. There was nothing to worry about. Anything she wanted to accomplish could be done through magic. It was just too bad Tara had been too naïve to see it.

Too goody goody and well, sorta bland.

She rolled onto her stomach and sighed. 

Some people just don’t know a good thing when it’s right in front of them.

She stopped and thought of that for a moment, realizing the same saying could apply to her and Tara’s relationship. But she quickly dismissed it and re-centered it on magic. That was the only good thing now. The only thing she could rely on.

Power…sweetness cloaked in energy and light.

She closed her eyes dreaming of the red and green aura, the lights of energy, zipping through the forest trees, floating back to her fingertips, the commander of her own destiny.


	3. Chapter 3

The roof was leaking again. Rain poured into the kitchen, plopping into the buckets placed strategically on the dirty linoleum floor. There had been water damage before, leaving the linoleum bubbled and bowed in places, the ceiling tile yellowed and water-stained from years of leaking and smoke.

Buffy added another pan, her last one, and sat on the counter, watching the rain plop from the ceiling…drip drip drip.

She ran her hands through her brown hair and pulled it back into a ponytail, letting it fall again, just past her shoulders. She shoved her breakfast…a Little Debbie snack cake…chocolate with cream filling into her mouth.

Sliding off the counter she walked another 10 feet to her bed and dug through the garbage bag laying on her wrinkled bed sheets. She pulled out a tank top and a pair of shorts, pulling the shorts up over her lacy black panties, bringing the tank top down over her bare breasts.

She turned the corner and entered her bathroom…about the size of a standard closet. The shower, mildewed and dripping as well sat in one corner, with the sink crammed in next to it and the toilet shoved in the other corner. There was enough room to turn…that was all she needed.

She brushed her teeth and put her hair in a ponytail. She didn’t bother wiping off last night’s mascara.

Buffy slid her feet into some flip flops and grabbed her wallet, shoving it in her back pocket. There was nothing in it except her ID and a few dollar bills…enough to get some milk and maybe some bread and jelly.

It was time to go to work.

***

“Still no sign of Buffy?”

“Nope.”

“H-how are you, Willow?" Giles’ concerned voice sounded far away.

“I’m fine.” Willow rolled her eyes and switched the phone to her other ear.

“You sound…you sound angry. Is something wrong?”

“Nah. Everything’s going well.”

“And Tara?”

Willow listened to the crackling in the phone, focused on the sound, like burning leaves on the fire… “What about her?”

“Do you hear from her?” Giles asked.

“Not at all,” Willow answered and quickly changed the subject, “Are you looking to talk to Spike?”

There was a pause on the other end, the crackling sound filling the void once again. “Um, yes…yes if he’s available.”

Willow didn’t say ‘goodbye,’ just handed the phone to Spike who sat at the bar stool in her kitchen, eating a ham sandwich.

“Hmmmlo?” Spike asked with a full mouth.

“Spike, this is Giles,” Giles said impatiently.

He’s poking his glasses back onto his nose. I can bet a thousand kittens and a bag of blood…

Spike swallowed. “Oh, how lovely of you to call! How was your morning tea? Not too hot I hope?” he snapped.

“No hotter than usual,” Giles retorted and got down to business, “I’ve got someone here who’s willing to rent my flat. I should be able to get back to Sunnydale within the week.”

“Sounds good to me, Rupert. Would’ve sounded even better to me about, oh, 4 months ago when I first contacted you but hey, timeliness must not be your thing.” Spike tapped his fingers on the countertop impatiently, grabbed Willow’s Bic lighter and his smokes and lit one up, purposely blowing the smoke at the phone receiver.

“I’ve done the best I can trying to get things in order here. I’ve got all the paperwork you sent me…”

“Good, glad to hear you didn’t lose it,” Spike snapped.

“Cut this childish bullshit right now,” Giles growled angrily over the phone.

Spike paused, taking a long drag on his cigarette, this time blowing the smoke out and away. “Sure…uh, glad you got the paperwork.”

“You mentioned before…something about when you located Dawn…you got into her house?” Giles asked.

“Yeah. Climbed up the trellis…it was real convenient…” Spike began.

“Who invited you in?”

There was more silence, the crackling in the phone bouncing off Spike’s eardrums…getting louder and louder as he tried to remember who the hell invited him into the Klein’s perfect little house.

Fucking hell.

Spike swallowed hard, taking a last drag on the cigarette and crunching it out in the ashtray. “No one invited me in.”

Giles sighed. “I was afraid of that. From the moment you told me…Spike, have you ever been in that house before? Been invited in there for some other reason?”

The blonde vampire closed his eyes. “No.” Spike pinched his forehead between his thumb and forefinger.

“There is something living there then…something not human. There is absolutely no way you would have gotten in that house without an invite if they were all human,” Giles pointed out what Spike had already known but had been too busy to have noticed.

“Great. Even more reason to get Dawn the hell out of there…” Spike stressed.

Willow appeared again with the bot in tow, both of them taking a seat on the couch. She listened to the conversation while flipping through a magazine, not wanting to appear interested. Buffy Bot watched Willow, blinked a couple times, and with a smile, picked up a magazine and began flipping through it, mimicking the witch.

“We will. I will do everything in my power,” Giles said, urgency in his voice.

“Well, I’ve gotta go play Slayer for the night. Got the bot here ready to go, too.”

“I will call again before I get to Sunnydale,” Giles answered and then added in a quiet voice, “Thank you, Spike.”

Spike blinked, his eyebrows falling into a confused ‘v.’ He took a deep breath and answered, “No, thank you.”

“It will all be over soon. We…we will find her,” Giles assured him, “Goodbye.”

“Yup.” Spike hung up and looked at the phone, wondering if the Watcher had any idea where to begin, ‘cause he sure as hell didn’t.

***

“Bud Light in a pitcher…” Buffy said as she set the pitcher of beer between the couple, “And one Sex on the Beach,” as she placed the drink with a napkin in front of their friend.

“Thanks,” they answered and Buffy nodded as she took the $2.00 tip the man handed her and quickly shoved it in her apron pocket.

Buffy was the only waitress on the floor that night…a fairly slow Tuesday at Corey’s Bar and Grill. Corey was bartending ‘cause their regular bartender had called in sick. Trey was in the back at the grill.

“Slow night, huh?” Corey asked Buffy as she stood next to the bar, waiting for the tap to fill the plastic pitcher. He shut off the tap and handed it back to her. She looked at the foam and nodded.

“I just noticed two over there in the corner…just walked in,” Corey pointed to the corner table, a darkly lit, out of the way spot.

“Got it.” Buffy took the Coors pitcher to the two men at table 5 and headed over to wait on the new patrons.

Approaching the table, she got a familiar feeling…the blood pumped through her veins quicker…her heat rose…her hands clenched.

Vampires.

She plastered on a smile as she came around the high-backed, wooden, booth. The woman sitting in the booth looked up at her with dark blue eyes, commanding and beautiful. Her pale skin looked paler against her dark brown hair, which hung to her shoulders in light waves. She tapped perfectly red, manicured, nails that matched her v-neck, red, blouse against the wooden tabletop.

The man sitting across the table was very plain, wearing a grey t-shirt, no jewelry or watch, his brown hair cut short in a crew cut. He looked over at Buffy and nodded to her in greeting.

“Hi, welcome to Corey’s…how can I help you tonight?” Buffy rattled off, having had said the same thing night after night for the past three months.

The woman smiled at her, her eyes trained on Buffy’s, her fingernails running along the table pointing at the menu.

“I’d like a Single Burger…rare.” She glanced up at Buffy through long lashes as she said the word, ‘rare’ as though she expected a response. Buffy didn’t blink.

“Alll right, one Single rare and for you, sir?” Buffy turned her attention to the man.  
“Same for me…oh, and I would like a bottle of Newcastle,” he added and handed Buffy his menu.

The woman raised her menu to Buffy, still staring at her and added, “If I could get a White Russian…?”

“Of course. I’ll be right back with your drinks and you’re food’ll be up in a bit,” Buffy answered, giving the woman one last bit of eye contact and headed back to the grill to put in their orders.

Vampires…I know they’re vampires…I can tell. What’s with Morticia’s eyes? Does she know who I am? Tactful is NOT her middle name.

Buffy got their drinks from the bar and brought them back to the two vampires, preparing herself for another stare down with the female patron.

As the man paid for their drinks, the woman smiled up at Buffy, flashing a perfect pair of teeth. “What brings the Slayer to work in a little bar…miles from Sunnydale?” she whispered to Buffy with a small smile playing at her lips.

Buffy looked down at the vamp and answered, “Got bored.” She turned to walk away.

“What could be more boring than this, dear?” the woman answered and raised her eyebrows.

Buffy glanced at her and walked off. She didn’t want to lose her job. She couldn’t afford to.

I’ll never escape. I’ll always be the Slayer. Why can’t I just be Buffy, the barmaid? What do they want with me? They certainly didn’t want to blow their cover any more than I had wanted to blow mine…


	4. Chapter 4

Dawn cleaned the Klein’s house silently, knowing if she kept her mouth shut they would eventually figure out she didn’t really want to talk to them. She picked through some of David’s toys, tossing them back into the toy box in the corner of the living room, then headed upstairs to straighten the bedrooms and clean the bathroom.

She fluffed the pillows on Mr. and Mrs. Klein’s bed, slipping them under the comforter and then tucking in the comforter. She smoothed it out, placed Mr. Klein’s slippers in the bedroom closet, and picked up a tube of lipstick off the floor and put it back on Mrs. Klein’s dresser.

She shouldn’t wear pink lipstick. It’s really not her color…she looks like a clown.

Dawn glanced over Mrs. Klein’s makeup. She had all sorts of old Avon stuff…nothing up-to-date. Dawn lifted a bottle of nail polish and cringed…the paint had separated leaving a clear goop at the top of the bottle, the paint oily at the bottom. 

Just as Dawn was going to head to David’s room, she noticed something shoved between the makeup tray and the jewelry box. Glancing over her shoulder cautiously even though she knew she was alone in the house, she went to the bedroom door and closed it gently with a click, then went back over to the dresser.

She carefully moved the jewelry box, a tall, wooden box with drawers, and pulled out a red jewel…it had caught her eye, the light glancing off the corner. The jewel was partially incased in a dark, black, rock, only part of the stone protruding from the thick blackness. It was blood red with flecks of lighter red and gold. Dawn had never seen anything like it, not even at the Magic Box. She took it in, remembered the details of it, and then put everything back the way she found it.

Next time I see Spike…I’ll ask him if he knows what it is, ‘cause it certainly isn’t normal.

***

Two Days Later…

Buffy sat behind the bar, legs hanging from the loading dock, swinging as she took out a pack of Basics and dug in her jean jacket pocket for a light.

She pulled out Spike’s Zippo, the moonlight hitting the shiny silver…she stared at it for a moment, then looked away, stuck the cigarette in her mouth and flicked open the lighter with a clink, lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag. She blew the smoke out above her head, the cloud floating to heaven.

“Buffy.”

She turned and looked up, vampire eyes staring back at her. But not the ones she wanted to look into.

Buffy brought herself up into a crouch and then stood quickly, dropping the Zippo back into her pocket with her cigarettes. The woman stepped out of the shadows, a little smile playing on her smooth lips.

“No need to stand,” the woman answered and sat down on the edge of the dock where Buffy had sat not a moment before. She patted the space next to her, her nails now brownish red, matching her full-length, leather, jacket.

“What do you want?” Buffy didn’t sit.

“I’ll pose the same question to you. What do you want, Slayer?” the woman leaned back onto her hands.

“And why should you care? Don’t tell me…you’re my Fairy Godmother. They ran out of actual fairies on Geritol so they sent me a vampire ‘cause they know I already understand how to handle them.” Buffy stared at the woman, her arms crossed over her chest defensively.

“I have something you want…you have something I need. Plain and simple,” the woman crossed her legs and shrugged.

“And that would be…?” Buffy raised an eyebrow.

“You need money…you need security. I have that. I need…well, I need blood. But I want power. You have both.” 

Buffy let out a laugh and cocked her head to the side. “Are you kiddin’ me?” She took a drag off her cigarette and blew it out slowly. “You want my power and my blood. Huh, why for some crazy reason does that NOT sound like something I’d fall for? Hmm…maybe because I wasn’t born yesterday.” Buffy flicked the butt out into the parking lot and turned to leave.

“You make no attempt to fight me.”

Buffy turned and looked at her. “Would you like me to stake you, ‘cause that can so be arranged.”

The woman stayed seated and looked at her nails as though she was bored. “I know you won’t.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Buffy clenched a fist at her side.

“You won’t…’cause you don’t want to be the Slayer anymore. And really, why should you do something you don’t want to, right Buffy? Let me put it this way…I have a job for you. You can take it, or you can live in squalor and give up eating so that you can afford your, um, habit…”

“Shut up,” Buffy snapped, her eyes wide as she stepped towards the vampire.

How does she know?

The woman held up her hand and closed her eyes. “I’ve got a way to solve all our problems, Slayer.”

Buffy looked at her shaking hands and shoved them into her pockets. “Talk.”

***

“Why can’t you do that? Tell me why the hell you won’t do that for me?! I’d be outta your bloody hair and you’d be back to whatever the hell you were doin’ ‘fore Buffy went a-wall…”

“Because, Spike…I don’t want Buffy to come back,” Willow answered him simply, “If I had it my way, I’d just send the bot on out and she’d make the world a happy little place while I sit back and relax. And maybe I will once I tweak the program. She might not need us to monitor her anymore…”

Spike stared at the red-head, his mouth agape, his eyes blazing with anger.

“Shut your damn mouth…you look like a frog,” Willow snapped and laughed, “You act as though it’s some sort of shock, Spike. I’m the power here now with the Slayer gone…don’t you see?” Willow snapped her fingers and an orb of light hovered within her palm. She closed it and it disappeared with a pop.

“You stupid, arrogant, bitch,” Spike sneered and grabbed her arm.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Spike. You wanna save the world? You’ve decided to hold down the fort while Buffy finds herself or whatever the hell she’s doing out there…that’s fine. But you piss me off…and that bot will be nothing but charred bits and I swear you won’t get Dawn back. I’ll see to that.” Willow smiled at him and with a blink of her eyes he was flung backward, his back smacking the counter in the kitchen.

Spike stared up at the witch from the floor, his eyes wide, his breathing hard as purple sparks danced off his body. He felt the evil shoot through his veins, attack his insides…he felt his face change, his fangs protruding from his mouth, touching his lip.

“Aw, ain’t that cute? Spikey gonna bite me?” Willow taunted. 

“We can’t go on like this…Buffy isn’t coming back. We have to find her,” Spike growled.

“WE? I’m not apart of any ‘we,’ Spike. When Giles gets here, you tell that old fool to just stay the hell away. I don’t need his preaching. I’ve got better things to do,” Willow yelled and pointed at the door, “Get the bot and get the hell out before I change my mind.”

Spike glared at her, wanting to shove her through the coffee table, wanting to crack her neck. But he knew she’d zap him again with whatever it was she used on him a minute ago and it felt like electrified dread. He didn’t want that again…never again would he want to feel that course through his body.

He picked up the Buffy bot from the couch, resting her battery on her chest and stared at Willow, his yellow eyes emotionless. 

“I’m out of this…you remember that,” Willow whispered.

Spike turned and left the apartment, carrying the bot like a dead body of the woman he loved and had lost, carrying the dead weight, shoving it into his trunk and speeding off into the dark.


	5. Chapter 5

Spike knocked on the door, ran his hand through his hair and waited. The door opened, a confused Tara staring back at him with large eyes. He gave her a small smile and she nodded in turn a smile glancing her lips.

“Hey, uh, Spike.”

“Hi. Can I…?” He pointed past her and she nodded.

“Come on in.”

Spike nervously waited for Tara to shut the door. She motioned for him to sit at the couch. “Would you like something to drink? Water?”

“No…thanks. Um, I have something very important to ask of you…you can say no…”

Tara sat next to him and asked, “Well let me judge. W-what do you need me to do?”

Spike let out a sigh and looked at his hands. “I want you to do a locator spell.”

Tara frowned, pushing her hair behind her ears. “But what about W-Willow? She’s much more powerful than me and…”

“FUCK…Willow,” Spike spat out and looked at Tara, his blue eyes angry, “Look what good she’s done you with all that magic she has.”

Tara glanced down at her lap and sighed. “Spike…”

“Willow won’t do a locator spell. I asked her and she refused.” Spike looked away, his eyes angry slits of blue, a muscle in his left cheek twitched.

Tara shook her head and asked, “Why wouldn’t she?”

“She doesn’t want Buffy to come back. She’s got a head bigger than the bloody world, that girl. It’s gonna all come back and bite her in the ass.” Spike scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“And why didn’t you ask her until now…?” Tara asked gently.

Spike looked at the arm of the couch, stared at the checked pattern. “I-I wanted to give her her space. I didn’t want to make her feel crowded and make her think I was hunting her down…”

Tara whispered, “You didn’t want her to know that you need her here. You felt hurt that she left you.”

Spike looked at Tara and nodded. “I’m a stubborn git…I know it.”

Tara sighed. “It’s not going to be easy. I mean, if she has gone too far…I might not get a read on her. I-I’ll do my best.”

Spike nodded.

“Are you sure that you are ready for…for what you might find? I mean, Buffy? Are you ready for…” Tara’s voice trailed off.

“I’ve never been more ready in my life,” Spike whispered and looked at Tara with determination and pain, more than she could bear.

Tara nodded. “Okay then.”

***

How? How would she know…?

Buffy came home, her hands shaking from the thought that the vampiress had been spying on her and she’d been dumb enough to not even know. She rummaged in her dresser and pulled out a little baggie…he’d given it to her the first time she’d called him. He’d been in the bar and she’d seen the way he’d been looking at her. She was weak that night. He’d seen it. It’d been easy.

She doled out a little amount of white powder onto the nightstand and quickly snorted it up her nose…she sniffed and ran the back of her hand under her nose and closed her eyes. She felt her nose go a little numb as her sinuses seemed to clear of everything…her mind speeding up…

Cocaine was easy.

Buffy dialed his number. She’d memorized it by now.

“Hello?” A deep voice on the other end asked.

“Lucas? It’s Buffy.” She jumped up from the bed with a squeak.

“Want me to come over?” He asked in a businesslike voice that sent a little chill down her spine.

Buffy nodded to no one. “Yeah.” She ran her hands through her hair and sighed.

“I’ll knock.” There was a click and the line was dead.

***

Flashes of heat…red hot. Sweat trickled down her back. She imagined someone else. She imagined anyone but this stranger. She dreamed of a cool touch, the way the candles had smelled… of the lighter fluid, of leather, a hint of cigarette smoke…but clean. He’d always smelled clean…like a light soap.

Something that left little trace of scent…Irish Spring?

Her mind wandered as the stranger felt his way within her…ground himself against her, an empty shell of who she used to be. To prove she could keep up, Buffy slammed against him wrestled her way on top of him.

She imagined his voice, whispering in her ear that everything was all right…that he’d care for her…that he just wanted her to be his…

That’s all he ever wanted. 

The stranger didn’t caress her. The stranger didn’t whisper in her ear. He smelled of booze and cigarettes…cloves. His body didn’t feel right. But it would do. It did the job. 

She imagined this stranger’s hot, tan, skin…she changed it to paler, cooler, she could imagine his lean body stretched over hers…his muscles strong, his grip hard but not hurtful. She imagined everything but his eyes. She couldn’t imagine that this stranger had his eyes. That would be impossible. She never looked into the strange man’s eyes during sex anyway.

It’s just sex. That’s all it is. 

She imagined Spike. It was all she could do to make it through…

The man pulled his pants up quickly in the dark and tugged his shirt up over his head. Buffy slipped the sheet over her breasts and dug in her purse on the nightstand.

“Here…” she handed him some wadded up bills, most of her tip from the night, and he nodded, “You can have that. Go ahead and take it. Take it,” Buffy rattled on, her pupils large.

“Need anything else?” He asked as he tied his loafers. He always wore high-end clothes when he came to see her. It was almost like a slap in the face. What he had…was from sad and desperate women like her. All of it.

“Uh, no. No.” Buffy shook her head, looking around the room, noticing a new crack in the wall, focused on the crack…

“Goodnight Buffy.” He stood up and began to walk to the door.

“Um, Lucas?” His name felt foreign on her tongue. She had barely called him by his name, except to call him to come over, in the three months since she’d met him, “Lucas?”

He turned and looked at her, his dark brown eyes glittering…she blinked and stared into his eyes…

No. Those eyes are not Spike’s.

“D’you know a woman named Sarafina…?” Buffy asked and swung her legs over the side of the bed and wrapped the sheet around her naked body. She started picking up cigarette butts and tossing them into the ash tray next to the bed.

Lucas smiled. “Of course I do. She’s my boss.” He smirked and walked towards the door, flinging his jacket over his shoulder and leaving without another word.

Buffy stared after the door as it shut.

Same here.

***

A Week Later…

Buffy leaned over, glancing between her hair, slowly stretching out her right hand, brushing it against the slick floor, feeling something tap her ankle. Ignoring it, she slid her hand back up her leg slowly as she raised her body, moving her abdomen in time to the pulsing music, running both hands up over her stomach, over her breasts, back around her neck, through her hair, letting her brown locks fall around her face as she walked backwards.

She grabbed a hold of the bar with one hand and quickly swung herself around, sliding downward, legs split apart, her head tilted back, letting her hair brush the dance floor. She could see nothing but the lights flashing above her. She blanked out the faces…the men looking at her as she danced, her back now up against the cool pole, as she slowly pulled the string to her skimpy, silver, bikini. She tossed it ahead of her.

She heard the whistles. She heard the hollers. She didn’t care. She saw nothing but the lights. She kept her glances above their heads, kept her body moving to the music. And before she knew it, the song was over. She reached over and picked up the money on the stage, holding her top up against her bare breasts, and left back stage to the usual clapping and whistling.

Another night down the drain…another dollar made. And she could afford to pay her rent again. But before she could go home, there was just one more job she needed to take care of. It was the other end of the bargain.

***

Spike rolled over and ended up on the floor with a crash.

“Bloody Sonofabitch,” he croaked and rubbed his head as the lights flicked on. Tara hung over the back of the couch staring down at him.

“A-are you okay?” Her long, light-brown hair was coiled above her head in a bun and she wore a fuzzy purple robe and a weary look on her face, her kind eyes tired.

“Uh, yeah…I’m fine.” Spike brought himself up on his elbows and sighed, “I’ll be outta your hair tomorrow…”

“No…you’re no trouble, Spike.” Tara shooshed him with a finger to her full lips and sat on the arm of the couch.

“Trouble is my middle name, luv,” Spike mumbled and lay down onto the carpet with a moan, “William Trouble…never mind.”

“You can stay here as long as you want. I’ll make sure the Buffy Bot goes out each night while you’re gone…” Tara assured him.

“You’re a good bird, Tara,” Spike looked at her upside down face and gave her a small smile, “Willow doesn’t realize what she’s missing.”

Tara looked down and whispered, “T-thanks.” She immediately looked sad upon the mentioning of her former girlfriend.

Spike looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “I’m dawdling, ain’t I? I should’ve left tonight, should’ve took my motorcycle and zipped up into the mountains and found her by now…”

Tara cut him off, “No. No you should leave when you’re ready. Y-you don’t want to rush things.”

“I’ve been brooding around here for a week…time to stop this namby-pamby bullshit and get on with it. She’ll either want to see me or she won’t.” Spike sat up and hoisted himself off the floor.

“Spike?” Tara watched as the vampire grabbed his leather coat and slipped into it quickly, checking the pocket for his cigarettes and giving her a reassuring little smile.

“I’m off. Can’t stay here anymore wondering why she left or how she’ll react…I gotta go see her.” Spike unlocked the door and turned to look at Tara, “Thanks Tara.”

Tara gave a small smile. “Please let me know…let me know what happens.” She touched his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile.

Spike nodded. “Giles will be looking for me. He thinks I’m still working with Willow. I won’t be surprised if he shows up here while I’m gone, just my luck. Just…just tell him the situation. I’m sure he’ll find something interesting to watch on Lifetime or something. That’ll keep him busy while I’m out…”

Tara rolled her eyes and nodded. “I’ll make sure he gets the message.”

“Right. Uh, bye.” Spike gave her a nod and left. She heard his Desoto take off with a rumble, the tires screeching around the corner.


	6. Chapter 6

Buffy sat outside her apartment, the sun shining down on her tan skin. She held a Cosmopolitan magazine in her hands, a can of Coke sitting next to her in the dirt. She didn’t have a lawn chair, but really, what was the use…she didn’t have a lawn.

The apartment was really a small house split into three apartments. Buffy had the upstairs apartment, which was really a large, converted attic. There was a set of stairs to climb to get to her place. The main floor apartment was the downstairs of the house, rumor had it that that was the nicest of the three apartments, with the most room and a shower/tub combo. Downstairs was the dungeon apartment, only 4 little basement windows, all underground, and rather cramped.

Perfect for a vampire.

She had a few hours to kill before she had to head into town for work and decided that she could sit out on the bottom of her steps in the sun’s rays for a little while. It was nicer out there than in her dingy apartment. She had left all the windows open to air it out of the smoky smell that seemed to live in the walls. Didn’t matter how many cigarettes she did or didn’t smoke…the smell had seeped into the old wallpaper long before she had come to sleep there.

The landlord was out of town and she had no idea when he’d be back around to fix the leaks, as well as the sink now, which kept backing up. The disposal had stopped working, adding to the aroma. No amount of incense, candles, or cheap air fresheners could help with the stench from the garbage disposal. She kept the windows open all the time now.

“If I had the money for leather…that’d be cool,” she muttered, looking at the pretty jacket in the photo. A slim, almost too slim, tall, blonde model with a serious look on her young face stared back at her from the glossy ad page, taunting her in her leather jacket.

Buffy looked up as she heard a motor pulling up the drive, dust kicking up behind the vehicle. She put down her magazine and stood up. It was her landlord, Harry. She frowned as he got out of his old Maverick and slammed the door with a creak of old hinges.

“Heya Elizabeth,” he called. Buffy hadn’t corrected him on her name. She’d been trying to shrug off the Buffy since she’d came there. 

“Hi, Harry. I thought you were going out of town?” Buffy shielded her eyes from the sun and took a sip of Coke.

“Yeah well my buddy pussed out and he had the good car…ol’ Gertrude here ain’t gonna get us to Vegas and back. Not without a hell of a lot of finessing…and I just ain’t in the mood to be playin’ mechanic these days.” Harry jerked his thumb towards the old, blue, car and sighed.

“Gertrude?” Buffy raised her eyebrows and gave Harry a little smile.

“Yeah. Every car I’ve had since I was a little kid…my parent’s car…was named Gertrude. Some damn name I came up with. Anyway,” Harry glanced up the stairs, “I hear you got a garbage disposal givin’ you hell?”

Buffy nodded. “That and the roof is leaking again. Niagra Falls isn’t as wet as my kitchen when it rains.”

“Damn roof needs to be ripped off and replaced. Too bad I didn’t get to go to Vegas, huh?” Harry winked at her. She smiled and watched as he shuffled up the steps, keys jangling in his worn hands as he searched the key ring for her apartment key.

“Thank you, Harry!” Buffy called after him as he let himself in and let out a cry. She laughed.

“God DAMN Elizabeth! What the hell didja put down that damn disposal?!” He yelled out the window and covered her eyes.

***

The bass thumped beneath her feet, an orgasm of energy pumping through her body, her legs strong, her ankles, criss-crossed with laces. They ran up to her mid-calf, attached to stiletto-heels. Walking in them wasn’t a problem. She had good balance.

She sashayed across the floor, flinging off her her driver’s hat. A man in the crowd caught it with a holler. Lights flashed red and orange upon her tanned skin…her brown hair fell as she pulled the clip out of it, falling around her shoulders. She continued to stare above their heads, her eyes hidden behind black sunglasses.

She slowly licked her ruby red lips and whipped the scarf from around her neck, leaning over into the crowd and barely glancing at the younger man, wrapped it slowly around his neck. He beamed from ear-to-ear and just as he was about to touch her ankle, she kicked back, stepping backwards, dancing back towards the pole.

She straddled it, moving around it, pretending it was a silent dance partner. She ignored the yells for her to take off her top. 

Duh…that’s the point. Don’t worry, I’ll get there.

She hung around the pole for awhile, spinning around it, sliding against it, then when she felt the crowd was worked up enough, and knowing the song would be over soon, she approached the runway again.

She grabbed the black sunglasses and flung them from her greenish eyes…and saw a flash of bleach blonde hair. She stopped and blinked but there was nothing there. The lights were strobing now, she blinked again and with a quick motion, ripped off her top and continued the dance. She had only missed a beat. No one noticed.

***

“Hey…”

Harry looked up to see a man with bleached blonde hair, a scar through his brown eyebrow, wearing a dusty, full-length, leather coat and a serious gaze staring back at him through the open door. He scrunched up his nose at the smell coming from the little attic and frowned.

“Uh, can I help you?” Harry rested his wrench on his shoulder and raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. You can…” Spike stood in the doorway and glanced within the sad little apartment. He spotted Buffy’s jean jacket flung onto the bed.

“Well you better get to talkin’ ‘cause I’m not gettin’ any younger…” Harry straightened up and stared back at Spike.

“Right…I’ll just cut to the chase then. Wouldn’t want to waste your time, seeings you got quite a stench goin’ on in here to tend to,” Spike pointed at the sink, “Buffy Summers…is this her place?”

“And may I ask who the hell you are to be askin’ about Elizabeth?” Harry crossed his arms, the wrench still held firmly in his rough hands, his brown eyes staring back at the vamp with suspicion.

“Just a friend,” Spike answered, his tone stern, his eyes staring back at the man, “I wondered if she was home.”

Elizabeth? What the bloody hell…?

“Well obviously,” Harry stepped forward, “She isn’t. So, friend would you like to leave a message for her? I’ll see that she gets it.” 

Spike glanced around the apartment again. With one last glance at Harry, he called over his shoulder as he descended the stairs, the last bit of light from the day’s sun hidden behind the tall pine trees, “Tell her William was here.”

Harry listened as the motorcycle revved up outside and peeled out onto the dirt road. He blinked and closed the door, turning on the light and headed back to fixing Buffy’s garbage disposal.

***

Dawn waited every night for Spike, waited to catch a glimpse of his white-blonde hair outside her bedroom window. She always ended up wondering where he was, getting angry, throwing her box of cards against her mattress, flopping into her pillow, and crying herself to sleep. Tonight had been no different.

“Dawn?” Mrs. Klein’s voice carried through her bedroom door, a tiny knock accompanying her saccharine tone.

Dawn sniffled and wiped the tears from her eyes, shoving her cards under the pillow. “Yeah?”

“There is a phone call from a Mr. Giles…”

Dawn’s eyes widened and she jumped off her bed, rushing to her door. Mrs. Klein handed her the cordless phone. 

“Keep it short, dear.” Dawn nodded and took the phone in her hand.

“Giles?!”

Giles chuckled and answered, “Yes Dawn, it’s me. How are you dear?”

Dawn shrugged and shut her bedroom door. Lowering her voice she responded, “Well, I’ve been better. It’s Boring City ‘round here.”

“You’ve been minding your foster parents though?”

“Yeah…I got Spike’s message loud and clear. I-I realize I…I was…”

Giles cut in, “Dawn, there’s no reason for apologies right now. I wanted to tell you that I am in Sunnydale. I’m going to meet with Spike and we are going to see what can be done about getting you home…”

Dawn felt her eyes fill up with tears but she took a deep breath before she let out a sob. A silent tear fell down her cheek, “That would be nice,” she answered in a small voice.

“Yes, yes it would. I have some paperwork that Spike was…uh…good enough to have gotten for me…”

“H-how are you going to get me back? I mean, what about Buffy?” Dawn sat on her bed and stared at the rose pattern on her comforter.

“Dawn, Buffy is…Buffy has left town,” Giles said gently.

“What do you mean?” Dawn frowned.

“Uh, oh dear I am guessing that Spike hasn’t seen you to tell you…”

“Giles…”

“Yes. See, the bank foreclosed on your mother’s house, Dawn. The-the house had to be sold. Buffy disappeared. She didn’t tell anyone where she went,” Giles added quietly.

“What?” Dawn glared.

“Dawn I’m going to try and…I’m going to try and gain guardianship while we work things out with the social services,” Giles told her quickly.

“Oh.” Dawn tried to imagine where Buffy would have gone. 

Is this why Spike hasn’t come to see me? Is he with Buffy? Have they both forgotten about me? They’re gonna leave me with Giles…so he can babysit me? What about the house...? 

“Dawn, I must let you go now. I will be in touch. You just continue to be good. Think positively…I want to hear that you are improving during your time away…think of this as a phase in your life…”

Dawn rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Uh, thanks Giles…”

“You’re most welcome. Goodbye, Dawn.”

“Bye.”

CLICK.

Dawn put down the phone and put her face in her hands. Where was Buffy?! Where the hell was Spike?! Could Giles get custody of her…get her out of there?!

Oh big crap! I forgot to tell him about the weird stone in the bedroom…

Dawn closed her eyes and thought of it…a dark red stone with golden flecks…protruding from a dark black rock. Kinda like lava rock. She couldn’t forget what the stone looked like. Something was not normal about that stone.

If only I had half a brain and had remembered to ask library guy for some information…

Dawn sighed and flopped back onto her bed with a groan.


	7. Chapter 7

Buffy rubbed the back of her neck with a sigh. She was sore all over as she rolled off her bed and crawled to the bathroom. She forced herself up into a standing position, then sat down on the toilet. The toilet seat was cold and it caused her to hurry her business. She splashed some water on her face and looked into the grimy mirror.

Her makeup was smeared around her eyes, making her look like Tammy Faye Baker. She stared at her reflection, her skin pale, her eyes tired. She closed her eyes and opened them…yup, still horrible looking.

Buffy trudged back to bed and closed her sore eyes, her neck aching. Rent was due tomorrow, and this month she had extra…thanks to her new job.

Yeah…great new job.

Buffy’s breathing switched…slowed down. 

She was dancing…she could feel the beat pulsing through her body…feel the eyes on her. She heard them calling her name.

“Buffy!”

She forced a sexy smile and shook her ass towards the crowd, then slowly took off her top, tossing it out into the faceless, jeering men. As it floated downward…she saw his face.

“Buffy…” his lips said, but she couldn’t hear him over the beat. She stopped dancing and stared.

He stared at her, his blue eyes piercing hers…

Outside Buffy’s apartment, Spike stood against a nearby tree and stared up at her door, the moon’s reflection dancing off the dirty window. He closed his eyes and imagined her sleeping, imagined the rise and fall of her chest as she slept. He swallowed hard and looked away. 

Time to light another cigarette…

***

Giles stood at the door, knocking, checking his watch, then knocking again. He frowned, checked the piece of notebook paper in his hand.

This is the right address…this is what Spike told me.

Giles knocked again and looked around the dimly lit hall. He heard the chain slide on the other side of the door, clinking against it, the locks clicking open.

The red headed witch opened the door, her hair mussed up, a drink in her right hand, a cigarette clasped between two fingers in the same hand. She looked at Giles, her mouth partially open.

"Willow?" Giles said, the tone of his voice almost a question instead of a greeting.

“Giles,” Willow answered, lifting her chin and taking a sip of wine. Giles could hear Indigo Girls playing softly in the background.

“May I?” Giles motioned with his hand.

Willow said quickly, “No, you better not.”

Giles frowned and asked, “H-how are you?” He pushed his glasses up on his nose.

“I was fine…” she trailed off and called over her shoulder, “I’ll be back in a minute, honey!”

A woman’s voice called back, “I’m not going anywhere!”

“Tara?” Giles asked.

Willow laughed. “Yeah, right. Um, Giles, as you can see I’m a bit indisposed right now…would you mind coming back, I dunno, some other time?” She took a drag on her cigarette and blew the smoke out into the hall, fairly close to his face.

Giles coughed and fanned the smoke away. “Since when do you smoke?”

“Since I grew up,” Willow snapped.

“Where’s Spike?” Giles stared at her, glancing down at her clothing, or lack thereof. Willow wore nothing but little champagne colored satin shorts, slit up the side, and a tight, white, tank top…her nipples poked at the fabric causing Giles to avert his eyes.

“What? Am I Spike’s keeper or something? Seriously Giles, you really should go,” Willow started to close the door.

Giles stuck his foot in the door, causing ash to fall from Willow’s cigarette, red wine sloshing out over the top of her glass, trickling down her wrist onto the carpet. Willow glared at him.

“I don’t know what the hell happened while I have been gone…but I’d suggest you reevaluate that notion that you’re all grown up,” Giles snapped angrily, “Because right now, you’re acting like a childish prig.”

Willow smiled at him, “Just because you haven’t gotten laid in the last century really doesn’t mean you should stoop to insults, Rupert. That’s childish.”

Giles opened his mouth to speak but Willow pointed her finger at the door and with a flash of purplish light, he found himself slammed up against the wall. She laughed and shut the door. He could hear the locks turn once again, hear the chain slide into it’s slot. More laughter ensued.

Blinking up at the closed door, Giles slowly raised himself from the floor, the overwhelming feeling of dread slowly washing over his body and sloughing off into nothingness. He could feel his heart skip as the darkness left his body…the darkness that was whatever Willow had just hit him with, the evil that was her.

“Willow…” he whispered.

What has happened to you?

*** 

Spike pulled up and parked his bike, killing the engine and adjusting his collar of his jacket. He stared at the neon sign.

Moonlight Club…can we get any more pathetic? How ‘bout a sign that reads, “Vampire nightclub HERE?”

Spike sauntered up to the door, looked once at the bouncer who nodded at him and opened the door for him. Spike nodded back at him and went in, loud rock music accosting his ears.

Spike squinted, smoke swirling through the air like fog. He looked around, noticing that the vampires were intermixed with humans. He located the bar and went up to the bartender and ordered a drink…whiskey, neat.

Spike leaned against the bar. He noticed some of the vampires noticing him, one female vamp whispered to her boyfriend and he nodded. Spike glared back, taking a sip of his drink. He lit a cigarette and turned his attention towards the dancer on stage.

A small, Asian girl was slowly grinding to the music, her breasts jiggling slightly as she moved, the men standing around the runway smiling. Spike turned away and focused on his drink.

“Never seen you ‘round here,” the bartender commented, “I’m Sly.”

Spike nodded, “Spike.”

Sly’s eyes widened. ”Not THE…”

Spike muttered, “Yeah, THE one and only.”

“Shit.” Sly smiled and poured something into a shot glass and plunked it down in front of the blonde vamp.

“What’s this?”

“On the house, man…it’s Jaeger,” the bartender added, “I mean, fuck man, you’re like, a legend.”

Spike raised his eyebrows. “Uh, thanks. I try not to think of myself in a Sleepy Hollow sort of way but if you’re handin’ out free libations…” he tilted his head back and slammed the shot, setting the glass back on the bar. 

Turning away from the star-struck bartender, Spike took his whiskey and headed to a small table towards the back of the club, perching himself on the stool. He watched as the Asian girl finished her dance, followed by loud whoops and whistles. 

“Spike?”

He looked over his shoulder. Sarafina stood behind him, her read lips curved into a smile. She placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, her black fingernails matching her black, off the shoulder, top.

“Sarafina…should’ve known this was your doing,” Spike purred as he gave her hand a kiss. She dipped her head in a little bow and sat across from him. 

“Do you like? I’ve been here about a year now…got tired of Europe, as I heard you and lovely Drusilla did as well,” she fumbled for one of his cigarettes and lit it on the end of the candle on the table, “How is she by the way?”

You didn’t hear…?

“Dru and I split up. Irreconcilable differences,” Spike said with a shrug.

“Oh you poor dear! Well what have you been up to? I’m sure you’ve made a visit to Sunnydale?” Sarafina took a drag on her cigarette and let the smoke out up into the air.

“Yeah, I spent some time living above the Hellmouth. Rather lame if you ask me. Not very exciting and very little chance to exert panic…not like in the good ol’ days,” Spike said and tugged on a waiter’s arm, “You got onion blossoms here?”

“Wayne, get Spike here an onion blossom…on the house please,” Sarafina ordered the young waiter, who upon hearing the name of the vampire who was holding his arm, did a double take and with a quick stutter of “Yes ma’am,” was off to fill the order.

“So, what brings you up here? I’m sure it’s not the beautiful scenery or the wildlife,” Sarafina faked a yawn and rolled her eyes.

“Nah, not so much,” Spike answered and looked up at the stage where a pretty girl with a blue bob wig was now leaning over, her ass in the air.

“Nothing like this back in Sunnyhell. I was on my way to L.A....” Spike watched as the girl slid off her top and smirked, “Glad I got got lost.” 

“Well so am I,” Sarafina smiled and touched his wrist.

He smiled back at her, and turned his attention back at the dancer. His eyes narrowed…he could barely see her face from where he sat. She shook spun slowly on the floor in front of the pole and slid up, her breasts sliding against it, her eyes looking far away.

“You like her?” Sarafina said in a low voice.

“Well…” Spike swallowed the rest of his drink, not taking his eyes off the girl.

“After we close...you can meet her.”


	8. Chapter 8

She led him down into the basement, into a room that reminded him of something out of Law and Order: SVU. It looked like the other side of the interrogation rooms, except full of comfortable couches, music, drugs, booze, and vampires.

Okay, not so much like SVU…

He sat down on a couch near the window. Sarafina sat next to him and snapped her fingers. A scared-looking girl, certainly not vampire, hurried up to her and took her order for a drink. When asked if he wanted anything, Spike shook his head and lit a cigarette.

“See, this window just looks like a mirror on the other side…I’m sure they know it isn’t though,” she said and tossed her dark hair over her bare shoulder.

“Who?”

Sarafina pointed as a woman was wheeled out into the room on a bed. She lay on her stomach, her head turned to one side, away from the window. Her arms and legs were bound to the bed at the wrist and the ankle, her body was naked.

Spike stared, trying not to frown. He slipped on a smirk and whispered, “What do we have here?”

“That,” Sarafina said as she took her glass from the scared girl, “Is my newest trophy.”  
Spike leaned forward, his face reflected in the glass. He kept the smirk on his face but his stomach lurched as he watched two male vampires walk into the room, sit down on the bed and brush the woman’s dark hair off the back of her neck.

“What’s so special about her?” he asked, “I mean…I like handcuffs like the next bloke but…”

“It’s not about the bondage. We have to do that to make sure she doesn’t…retaliate.”

Spike snickered, “And why would two grown vampires be scared of a small woman? Sounds pretty pathetic…”

“She’s not any woman. Take a closer look at her,” Sarafina said with a smile, her dark eyes trained on Spike’s face.

His blue eyes watched as the first vampire leaned over the naked woman, slowly licked her neck, and changed. His face morphed, brow protruding, eyes yellow, fangs extended. He sunk his teeth into the back of the woman’s neck. He saw her hands clench into fists…

“Secrets are for children, Sarafina, dear…” Spike whispered, “So care to tell me what the big deal is?”

“That is the dancer with the blue wig, DEAR,” Sarafina added with a small chuckle, “You’ll meet her when they’re done with her…or, if you’d like, you may have a little taste yourself.”

Spike blinked. “I can find my own food, thank you very much,” he answered but smiled as to not offend her.

“I’m sure you can. But can you drink the blood of a Slayer whenever you’d like?” Sarafina’s white teeth glistened. She licked her lips, eyes gleaming.

Spike swallowed hard, turned from her, and looked back down through the window. He stared at the woman on the bed. She had dark, brown hair, just past her shoulders, slightly wavy…

The other vampire was now sucking into the back of her neck, the fist vampire smiling and licking his lips. He lay across her legs, a smile on his fanged face. The euphoric, powerful, effect of Slayer blood was coursing through his body now…Spike could see that he was stiff.

“A Slayer? THE Slayer?” Spike whispered, leaning his elbow against the window, pressing his forehead against the glass. He tried to see her face…

“Of course, Ms. Summers was easily commissioned…she has very um, low expectations for herself right now. She had been working at a bar when I’d found her. One of my demon boys…he’d met her and had been, well, been serving her sexual needs. He tipped me off that the Slayer was in town. I proposed to her that I allow her free nights with Lucas and a discount on her coke habit if she would come dance at my club. As you can see, she is also quite the hot ticket around here…men and women are paying $500 a pop just to get a 15 minute session with her…her blood is intoxicating to them.” Sarfina beamed as she discussed her accomplishments.

Spike couldn’t hold the fake smirk anymore. He instead stood up, taking a long drag on his cigarette, as he watched the second vamp grab Buffy’s ass. He smushed the butt of the cigarette on the window ledge. His jaw twitched.

“See, the Slayer doesn’t want to be who she is, sort of a midlife crisis or something. This way, she can afford her habits, pay her bills, and I get something in return. No one’s slayed and everyone gets what they want. I have her in the palm of my hand…” Sarafina stood up and ran her hands over Spike’s back, resting them on his shoulders. He closed his eyes. His jaw twitched.

“Ingenious, right?” she whispered in his ear, licking his earlobe. He bit the insides of his mouth until he could taste his own blood.

“You’re quite the wicked one, Sara…haven’t missed a beat,” Spike whispered, his eyes on the second vampire who was now kissing Buffy’s back, trailing his tongue down her spine…

“Would you like a taste?” Sarafina whispered and raised her eyebrows, rubbing her chest against his back, running her hands down his arms.

Spike swallowed hard and said grimly, “I’d be a fool not to.”

Sarafina clapped her hands. “That’s my boy! I knew William the Bloody, killer of Slayers would just love to take a taste of my little Slayer. Now remember…she’s a working girl now. No killing. We have strict rules here. No harm, aside from a standard bite is allowed. You may not bite her anywhere but the back of her neck…damaged property doesn’t look so hot when it’s up on stage. No sex. You get 15 minutes…and for you, this one is free.”

Sarafina escorted him out into the hall. Spike felt his stomach wretch as he tried to control his anger. 

Fucking bitch. I could snap your sodden neck right now…

“I want a private session,” Spike said quietly.

“You mean you don’t want us to watch?” Sarafina looked hurt.

“I’ll pay you for a private session…here,” Spike handed her some money. She opened up her hand and counted the bills.

“More than half…all right,” she nodded with a smirk, “I’ll close the window down and send the visitors off. You can wait here with my guards,” Sarafina patted a bulky vampire with a bald head on the shoulder. He stared at Spike, standing 2 heads taller than him.

“This Thomas, is William the Bloody…Spike.”

Thomas’ eyes widened and he smiled. “Right on.” He smiled approvingly.

“He’s going to take a drink. I’ve got to say ‘goodbye’ to some guests…” Sarafina kissed Spike on the cheek and touched his chest then sauntered off, her butt swaying as she climbed the stairs.

Spike tried not to pace, instead lighting another cigarette. Thomas tried to engage him in discussion, but Spike quickly showed him he was less than disinterested. Thomas shrugged and flipped open his phone. Spike took a long drag on his cigarette.

“Tell Spike he can enter,” Sarafina’s voice said over a speaker.

“Yes ma’am.” Thomas opened the door and ushered Spike into the room.

Spike, knowing he was probably still being watched in some capacity, glanced around the room. The bed loomed ahead of him, Buffy’s naked body sprawled out on top of it, her face still away from him.

He knew he needed to put on a good show. He couldn’t bust her out of there…that wasn’t the way to go about it, as badly as he wanted to rip the leather straps off her and carry her to safety, he knew that just wasn’t going to cut it. Not with all the vampires around. Neither of them would make it out alive, William the Bloody or not. And not with her in such poor shape.

Slowly, Spike approached the bed. He slid his duster off, letting it drop to the cold, white, floor. It was like being in a terribly twisted hospital room. The lights dimmed suddenly. He glanced up at the mirror.

“There is no one around now. You may proceed. Goodnight,” Sarafina’s voice rang over a speaker. Spike swallowed hard and glanced back at the bed. He didn’t trust his hostess one bit.

His boots clomping on the white tile, Spike rested one knee on the bed. He watched Buffy’s body react…she braced herself, her muscles tightening, her hands twitching. He stared at her back…smooth and tan, tanner than it used to be. Her blonde hair had grown…it was not brown last he’s seen it. 

He leaned over her, turning his back completely on the mirror behind him, straddling her hips, and leaned close to her ear. He felt her twitch again.   
“Buffy...” he whispered in her ear.

Buffy remained silent. Spike touched her arm and she twitched. “Buffy…luv,” he whispered again.

She let out a little gasp of breath and said in the faintest, saddest, voice, “Spike?”

Spike felt tears well up in his eyes but he swallowed them down, pushed them away. He couldn’t blow this…they would kill them both.

“Buffy, just lay there…stay still. I’m…I’m gonna have to bite you,” he whispered and brushed her hair away from her neck, “I’ll try not to hurt you…”

Buffy closed her eyes and attempted to nod her head but ended up moaning with pain. Spike touched the back of her neck and chose an un-bitten spot…her neck was full of bite scars and healing punctures…and the two fresh wounds from tonight.

Spike changed, his fangs protruding onto his lower lip as he leaned over her and quickly sunk his teeth into her, trying not to drink too heavily, trying to make it look believable. He held onto her arm, wanting to stroke it, wanting to let her know he was sorry, but he didn’t want anyone to see him showing affection toward the Slayer.

When he was done, he kissed her neck and whispered, “Forgive me,” and ran his hands down her naked back, slowly. He felt the strength of Slayer’s blood flowing within him…a warmth he hadn’t felt since the last slayer…since New York. He swallowed hard and slid off her, slowly putting on his duster, his face returning to normal.

The door opened and the body guards came back in, wheeling Buffy through a larger, garage-type, door. Spike caught a glimpse of her as they wheeled her past…he stared at her, his eyes sad, as her eyes caught his. She closed them quickly.

Sarafina came into the room with a smile. “So you like my newest attraction?”

Spike snapped out of it and nodded. “Yeah, she’s quite a euphoric treat.”

“Glad you liked it. If you wish to get another taste…you know where to find us.”

Spike nodded and looked away as Sarafina ran her hand along his chest and gave him a kiss on the lips. “You know where to find me.”

Spike forced a smile and watched as she sashayed out of the room, adding extra sway to her ass.


	9. Chapter 9

“Hello?”

Tara...I found her,” Spike said, his voice weak. He drummed his black-pianted fingernails nervously against the glass of the pay phone booth.

“Spike, Giles is here now…here, talk to him,” Tara said. She heard the phone transfer hands and Tara’s voice in the background saying, “He found her.”

“Good,” Giles’ voice answered him, “Tara caught me up on what is going on…”

“We need to get Buffy out of here. Whatever we gotta do. She’s in way the hell over her head this time,” Spike blurted out into the phone.

“What is going on there?’ Giles’ voice had a hint of worry to it. 

“She’s…she’s on drugs. She’s dancing in a strip club…a vampire strip club. The owner, Sarafina, I know her. She’s ruthless…instead of killing her prey she toys with them first. Her mum never taught her not to play with her food,” Spike said angrily.

“Oh my God…” Gile’s voice said over the phone, “What the hell is she thinking?” he whispered.

“I don’t know. Giles, she’s selling her blood. She’s…she’s Sarafina’s ‘latest attraction.’ You get to take a bite at her for $500,” Spike said, his voice wavering. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. One solitary tear rolled down his face. He batted it away with the back of his shaking hand.

“Where is she now? Are they holding her captive?” Giles’ voice shook with anger.

“Nope. Buffy’s doing this on her own free will,” Spike’s defeated words hit Giles in the heart. Spike closed his eyes and sighed.

“We must get her out of there,” Giles agreed, “Shut the entire operation down.”

“Easier said than done. Remember? No Slayer,” Spike said, frustration causing his voice to raise an octave.

“Then we’ll gather forces…”

“What fucking forces?! Rupert, are you off your rocker?! It’s you, me, and a robot,” he snapped.

“We have Tara,” Giles retorted, “She can help us.”

“Great. We’ve got the good witch Glenda, RoboBuffy, the Geritol Poster Librarian, and…”

“Quiet!” Giles yelled over the phone.

Spike felt his anger mounting, he clutched the phone until his knuckles turned white. “I’m trying not to lose my mind…you didn’t see what she was letting them do to her…”

“Bottom line is she let them do it. We…we need to shut that place down and bring her home. But you do understand, she may not want to come back to Sunnydale. And that is not something we can force her to do,” Giles said sternly.

“She can’t stay there, it’s going to kill her…they’re gonna drain her eventually. This game can’t go on forever…” he protested.

“And that is why we will take away that element. But Spike, the rest is up to her. Only Buffy can want to change. Just like only Dawn must want to change for the better. The choices are theirs to make…”

“Can the pep talk, Yoda. Just get the troops…er…just get up here,” Spike muttered and gave Giles the directions to both The Midnight Club, and to Buffy’s apartment house.

They hung up without a goodbye, Spike laying his forehead against the phone receiver long after the connection had been severed, Giles closing his eyes and slumping up against Tara’s kitchen countertop.

***

Buffy shakily brushed her hair, continuously glancing at her open window, waiting to see him show up there…she tried to wipe off the mascara from under her eyes, tears streaking her face. She changed into a t-shirt and curled her legs up to her chest, glanced around her apartment and began to cry.

How could he do that? How could he slip in like this…come here and see me like this? I don’t want him here…I don’t need him here. I can handle myself. I don’t need his help…

Buffy dug into her nightstand and found a bottle of pills, popped one into her mouth, and swallowed it without water. The tranquilizers helped to her calm down.

She slowly felt her eyelids droop. She rested her head against the headboard and kept her eyes on the window, stared at it until she couldn’t make it out anymore, until it blurred in front of her vision and she had sunk into a deep sleep.

***

Dawn snuck down the hall to the bathroom, having drank too much water before bed, knowing full well she’d suffer for it later. She turned on the light and gently shut the door. When she was done peeing, she flushed the toilet and washed her hands. She waited for the toilet to re-fill before she shut the light off and opened the door, rushing right into David.

Dawn let out a small cry and she covered his mouth. David stared back up at her with dark eyes, his stuffed bear under one arm. He wore footsie pajamas and a sleepy look on his face.

“David, you should be in bed…” Dawn whispered and took his hand, guiding him back down the hall.

He gripped her hand, his small fingers interlacing hers. He glanced up at her and gave her a little smile. She smiled back at him and took him into his bedroom.

“Here ya go, bud,” she whispered as she tucked him under the covers. He leaned up, puckering his lips, daring her to give him a goodnight kiss. Dawn sighed and leaned over, allowing the little boy to kiss her cheek.

“Goodnight, Davie,” she said and left the room, turning on his night light as she left, closing the door behind her.

David turned over his bear…reaching into its back…and pulled out a black rock. He turned it over and over in his little palm, his eyes sparkling as he stared at the red gem poking from the dark rock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the second story in the Dark Slayer Trilogy! I really appreciate your reading my fanfiction. If you liked Red Wine, please read the last fiction in the trilogy, White Knight. Thanks again!


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